I watch them wheel on down the hall
then come back up,
prepared to fall
back into the daily grind.....
God I wish that they could find

Some way out
or some way in.
Some way to get back home again.

Wilma sits there by the door.
She's waiting
as she's done before
so many times, so many days
and there are just a few small ways

that I can help
to give her hope,
or simply find a way to cope.

Ellen calls me by my name.
Which makes no sense
for it's the same.
Every afternoon at three,
I'm not who I seem to be.

I wish I were.
For maybe then
I could bring them home again.

Let the music free your spirit
  when you hear it
   it takes control
    within your soul.

Let the music live inside you
  let it guide you.
   Each day a song
    you take along.

Let the music always lead you
   let it need you.
    Given a chance
     life is a dance.

Albert Day was one of a kind,
A middle aged man,
with a much younger mind.
Some claimed he was crazy,
some said "Just *******,"
some said as a child
he was left brokenhearted.

Whatever the reasons
it didn't quite matter,
for Albert cared not
for the first or the latter.
Let them say what they wanted,
stupid fools with worthless lives.
Bratty kids... barking dogs...
know it all's with cheating wives.

He knew more of them,
then they knew of each other.
What they knew of him,
he had learned from his mother.
He knew he was useless,
nobody could love him.
No wonder to Albert,
that's what they thought of him.

Albert lived in a small mountain town,
a place he believed to know well.
The annual picnic was coming around,
Albert figured he'd go for a spell.
It wasn't like Albert to be in a crowd,
these people were ******* his eyes.
But this year he'd go,
this year he'd be proud,
for this year he had a surprise.

Saturday dawned with a bright blue sky.
Albert awoke with a smile.
He didn't know how
he didn't know why
but he did know today was worthwhile.
Townspeople gathered at Finnigans Park
with umbrellas, and sunscreen, and chairs.
Albert arrived with his mind in the dark,
stupid fools, how they're left unawares.

Alone on his blanket he sat and he watched,
as festivities got underway.
Wondering when to contribute,
his festivities to this fine day.

He studied the husbands,
he stared at the wives.
Watched the kids as they played in the sun.
His patience wore thin,
yet he still wore his grin,
reaching into his sock for his gun.

It only took seconds to squeeze the trigger.
Just seconds to see them all fall.
He thought to himself as he watched them...
stupid fools.... you don't know me at all.

She looked directly in my eyes,
and then she looked away.
It really came as no surprise,
that I should feel this way.

I'd seen it coming for so long,
I knew what lie in store.
I simply wanted one more song,
I yearned for just one more.

For she could take my breath away,
with songs so sweet and clear.
I'd go to listen every day,
just for the chance to hear.

To be around that strong sweet voice,
I could not help but smile.
Each day I had no other choice,
but to listen for awhile.

Who am I to want for more?
She's gone now....  yet I linger.
Yearning for what went before,
inspiration I could bring her.

In dreams last night I heard the phone,
a constant steady ringing.
I said hello to a voice unknown,
until I heard the singing.

Howard Dully was twelve years old
when Dr. Freeman felt so bold
to dig around inside his head
a wonder that he isn't dead.

The year was 1963,
when Howard had his lobotomy.
He never even had a clue,
of what his parents planned to do.

                  ORBITOCLASTS
The name Freeman gave to his personally designed
lobotomy knives.
They went under Howard's eyelids 3 centimeters
from the mid line and parallel with the nose.
Driven to a depth of 5 centimeters he pulled the handles
laterally, returned them halfway, and drove 2 centimeters
deeper.  He touched the handles over the nose, seperated
them 45 degrees, elevated them 50 degrees, and at this point
he probably
smiled to himself.
For now they were parallel,
and ready for photography before removal.

An angry stepmom arranged it all,
she made the final judgement call.
They labeled Howard as insane....
opened him up, and juggled his brain.

Howard survived because he was still growing.
Not fully developed,
his brain would keep going....
off in directions he couldn't control
but never condeming
the depths of his soul.

Not long ago I read his book.
I felt intrigued to take a look.
I hope, dear reader, you do the same.
Remember his story,
remember his name.

I saw that man fall in the street.
It was like he suddenly
lost his feet.
His sign went flying,
as did my mood.
I should've been crying,
will work for food.

I saw my friend breaking down.
She needed those pills,
but they weren't around.
Her hands were shaking,
as was my mind.
Her heart was breaking,
yet I left her behind.

I heard the sirens again tonight.
My stupid neighbors,
another fight.
I've seen that girl,
we spoke once or twice.
She's not in my world,
I've been more then nice.

There will always be something wrong.
Some lost soul
some sad song.
There will always be people,
to rearrange it.
But God, just once,
can we try to change it?